Morro less an improvement

February 9, 2023

Almost exactly five years ago, Rachael and I were deep into the project of deciding what to keep and what to dispense with when we sold our home and downsized to a single 5’x10’ storage unit. One decision we wavered over was whether to keep my copy of John J. Audubon’s Birds of America, a book of my father’s that I treasured in my youth. I wrote about this at the time, and of why I of course decided it had to stay with us. Someday when we settle somewhere again I’ll find a prominent place for it and leaf through it from time to time.

I’m reminded of it this morning when looking at the wall of our bedroom. We’ve certainly come to the right place here in Morro Bay. La Serena Inn labels itself above its main entryway as a bird friendly hotel; and everywhere you see inside there are bird references: Audubon’s plates line its halls, and an open newer edition hard copy of the book is displayed on a table in the lobby; a large chart of the birds of California covers a wall of the elevator; field guides and bird-branded T-shirts and caps are for sale at the front desk.

The American Avocet, Plate 318 in John J. Audubon’s Birds of America, and bird 75 on Team Anderson’s 2023 bird quest.

So the ankle continues to improve - slowly. At this point I’ve decided that it doesn’t make sense to get on the bike until we return to Portland, which is only five days away now anyway. It feels like I’d be fine on an easy, flat ride but I’m more worried about the idea of lifting my bike out of the car. Thinking back, I’m not sure I didn’t set myself back somewhat by helping load the car when we left San Luis Obispo.

So, no biking for me for at least the next five days, and none for Rachael either; so unless you’re a fan of birds, mountain hikes or road trips you could close the book for now and crack it open next week sometime to see if there’s any biking happening yet.

Or, you could stick it out for another few days and see how the upcoming CycleBlaze meetup turns out. There won’t be any bikes or bike videos, but I’m sure there will be plenty of bike-talk.

If you’re still here though you might take a look at Rachael’s latest slideshow, from yesterday’s 12 mile hike up on Black Hill and Cabrillo Peak - her third outing on her own Peak Quest to bag as many of the Nine Sisters and other nearby peaks as she can fit in before we leave here. She’s up to four so far, with one day remaining. Go, Rocky!

For myself, it was more of the same - short walks on gentle terrain, hoping to find a few more birds to add to the list. And I did find a few. I started by driving back to Morro Rock, feeling a little silly to be driving to a place that’s barely a mile away, and walking on the bay side of the rock this time. There aren’t too many birds around this morning - mostly just the usual Western gulls, white-capped sparrows, Brewers blackbirds, and a half dozen vultures swirling around and coming to rest on the crags near the top of the big rock. There is a charming flock of tiny, twittering Bushtits that flit by, and our old friend the Brandt’s cormorant that we got to know earlier in the tour at La Jolla. And the rarely seen triple-curlew. That’s about it though, and so after a half hour I shuffle back to the Raven and move on to try my luck elsewhere.

Looking up at Morro Rock, the first (or ninth, depending on which end you start counting from) of the Nine Sisters. Rachael won’t be climbing this one, which is off limits.

Looking down the breakwater and across Morro Bay.

83: Bushtit. Another frustrating subject, a tiny bird not much larger than a kinglet. A flock of about twenty of them moved in and immediately disappeared into the bushes. Not the best shot, but I was lucky to get this much.

We’ve seen plenty of heron shots, but I liked this one balanced on a rock, braced against the wind.

84: Brandt’s cormorant. Another unmistakable bird, if you get a good shot of one.

I haven’t been up north yet, so I stare at the map and see a small park about five miles away just north of Cayucos that appears to have a cliff-top trail along a rocky shoreline. It might be a good spot for seeing an oyster catcher or surfbird, or maybe some terns or pelicans. So I drive out there next, stopping on the way to check out the long pier at Cayucos.

The Cayucos pier, not a good birding spot today.

But a good one for appreciating the surf and surfers.

The path along Estero Bluff is scenic and a nice walk, and does look like it could be a good birding spot in the right conditions. These aren’t those though, I realize when I look down below the cliffs and see very little shoreline and no birds at all on it. It occurs to me to check the tide situation, and I see that I’m here at almost precisely high tide - probably the least promising time to be looking for surfbirds. I haven’t really been taking the tides into consideration, but I should.

It’s not a complete washout though - there’s a small offshore rock crowned with cormorants and gulls to gaze out at, and an interesting small shipwreck. And then, just as I’m about to head back to the car, two new species show up and hop on the list, arriving at almost the exact time so I’m not sure which I should look at first.

The Cayucos shipwreck - a fishing boat that ran aground against Estero Bluff in 2017. The state park has jurisdiction and could remove the wreck at an estimated cost of at least $175,000, but doesn’t have the funds to do so. It’s high tide now, but apparently you can walk right out to it when the tide is out.

The view inland from Estero Bluff. The horizontal seam splitting the image is Highway 1. The yellow color comes from that ever-present noxious weed, the Bermuda buttercup.

86: Black turnstone. Another shot from too far away, but one that reveals all the key indicators.

Looking south from Estero Bluff. Cayucos is the town at the left side of the image.

After that it’s time to head back to the room and get off my feet for awhile. Around four though I’m off again, back to Morro Rock for a quick look to see if the bird scene is any changed now that the tide is going out. It has changed - there are a few new species out, bringing me up to a respectable seven for the day; as well as some more loons, giving me a chance to observe their interesting feeding behavior in a way I hadn’t before. It’s not just birds though - the scene is crawling now with ground squirrels, dozens of them standing on rocks, racing across the path, diving down holes. One even comes right up to me, stops about a foot from my foot, and looks up imploringly.

Another California ground squirrel, but a much better look this time. Easy enough to get - there were dozens scurrying around the trail this evening.

Rachael has returned from her hike in the meantime, and soon after I return myself we drive the long two blocks to Dorn’s Breakers Cafe, where we end the day alternately looking at each other’s photos, plates of blackened salmon and snapper, and the developing sunset. Very nice.

And, in an added surprise, Rachael points out the small bird in one of her photos - a junco! It too gets added to the list, and turns the bird quest into a team effort. Well done, Rocky!

90: Dark-eyed junco, one of the most common birds in America - it is estimated that there are over 830 million of them, so look around and you might see one yourself. This is the Oregon junco subspecies, which was recognized as a separate species when I started birding long ago. There are about 15 different subspecies that freely interbreed, so they’re all lumped together as a single species now.

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2023 Bird List

83. Bushtit

84. Brandt’s cormorant

85. Savannah sparrow

86. Black turnstone

87. Surf scoter

88. Snowy egret

89. Red-breasted merganser

90. Dark-eyed junco

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Keith AdamsLooking forward to Morro the same in the coming days...
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Keith AdamsHey, that’s my job!
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1 year ago